Michelle followed the circuitous route dictated to her, picking up the next set of instructions from the brush contact at the shopping plaza, and finally arrived at her destination.  The house sat back from the road, isolated and partially concealed, a dilapidated rancher at the back of an old subdivision on large lots, invisible with ordinariness. The relative proximity to her and Bina’s most recent hideout unnerved her. Had the HI known where they were? 

She parked the car.  The front door of the house opened as she approached, and she was greeted by a young Asian woman with solemn eyes and a bland expression.

“Hello, Michelle.  My name is Dongmei Chung.  You can call me Mei. Welcome.”  Michelle took the proffered hand, and the girl smiled. Michelle felt the tickle of touch talk in the subtle movements of the girl’s fingers, and instantly recognized one of her peers, a human interface to the collective mind, trained to communicate in the multisensory manner used by the HI collectives. The messages came in bursts.

We found Adam. He is here.

He is afraid about Bina.

I am Bina’s friend.

We must find Bina.

Bina is in great danger.

Something is wrong with the collective.

Many people are searching.

Great danger.

Michelle studied Mei. This girl was older, mid-twenties? A young woman, but her eyes betrayed a sad wisdom. She pulled her hand away.

“Adam is here?” Michelle looked over the young woman’s shoulder through the doorway and suppressed a flash of irritation that her brother had moved back to the region without telling her. How many arguments with Bina would they have avoided?

“That’s what we need your help with. He moved here with some others months ago. We don’t know why. It was very difficult to find him. He’s not happy that I am here, but I think he’ll communicate with you.”

“What do you mean, difficult to find him? He’s hiding from the HI?” Michelle frowned at this unsettling revelation.

Mei shook her head. “I don’t fully understand what is going on. To answer your question, yes, somehow he’s separated himself, but he still meshes with parts of the collective. It’s causing some kind of disruption.”

Michelle knew if anyone could cause a problem, it was her brother. But he was so happy before, when he integrated with the collective, leaving behind the frustration and isolation of his life before the McJames school. She appraised Mei again. 

“How have we not met before?” 

Mei shrugged. 

“You weren’t in Rexburg very long. I remember you from shared memories of the groupmind, seeing you at the dance, before the fight and our relocation, but I was just a little girl then.  My family went with one of the other ganglia.  My uncle belongs to that one.”

Michelle tried to remember the dance, the first time she’d been exposed to the inner workings of the groupmind, sharing information, coordinating dozens of nervous systems, amplifying and synchronizing the prodigious abilities of the students at the McJames Institute, as well as the unsuspecting nervous systems of the audience members, there ostensibly to watch the dance performance, but also touched and influenced unconsciously by the ebb and flow of sensory information along multiple visual, auditory, and tactile channels.

“And you’re a Voice? You’ve been trained?”  

Mei looked down shyly and nodded.

“I’m not as good as Bina, at least as good as she was, before you dropped off. I hoped to meet you some day and learn from you and her. I spoke with Bina through the yunk, when we meshed during training. I miss her.”

Michelle winced at the mention of something else her decisions deprived Bina of, the friendships and experiences of the wider world. As Bina’s skills improved, her level of access quickly outstripped Michelle’s, which lead to Michelle focusing more on teaching life skills, reading and manipulating the typicals, while Adam lead her further into the groupmind, until they all separated. But Michelle wondered at how Bina would never have mentioned these friendships, then just as quickly reminded herself of the other more important issues her daughter managed to conceal.

“Yunk. That’s Bina’s word.”

Mei smiled, then stopped, seeing the pang of worry on Michelle’s face at the mention of Bina. “Yes. She used it and it caught on. It’s what we all call ourselves. The groupmind doesn’t care. I get the sense it finds it amusing. Homo iunctus was just too…you know.”

Michelle’s eyes welled from the waves of emotions, cross currents, fear about Bina’s safety, anger at her defiance, desperately missing her, worry about her comfort, proud of her stature with the groupmind. Mei read her perfectly and reached out, holding her hand and giving ordinary comforting squeezes.

“We…I need your help. Something is off, with Adam and this node.”

Michelle frowned.  “My first priority is finding my daughter.”

“They may be connected. Adam won’t mesh with me, and only one of the others will. They refuse contact with any other ganglia. In and of itself, not that unusual given differences in sensory preferences and training, but this feels different. Also, when I mesh with the one, her name is Serena, it feels like she is concealing something. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe.  It’s just very different from what I usually experience. She’s in the kitchen, avoiding me.”

“How do you not know what’s going on?  Why do you need me?”

“The groupmind is still evolving. Like an individual, it doesn’t fully comprehend its own inner workings. The parts can’t see the whole, and the whole sometimes is completely unaware of the activity of the parts. Like your mind has no awareness of the inner workings of the eye, or  your hypothalamus, it just knows the end result and whether it is working properly. Like I said, something is off.”

“And Adam?”

Mei shrugged. “I think, we think, he’s somehow taking advantage of that, but we don’t know how, or why. I…we hope you can communicate directly with Adam and assess the situation.”

They entered the house and Michelle saw an older, heavy-set man with Down’s syndrome on the couch wearing a gaming VR headset playing something involving guns and explosions, audible outset the headset because of the volume. He took no notice of the newcomers.  Mei escorted her upstairs and opened the door to a room filled with equipment. Adam sat at a desk, three monitors arrayed in front of him, a conventional keyboard, a touch pad, haptic sleeve on one forearm, and his custom haptic pad on the desk. His hands moved fluidly between all three, like a concert pianist, his head bobbing to rhythms and patterns only he could discern in the data flow across all the interfaces.  He gave no indication of awareness of Michelle’s presence.  She stood next to him and watched code and complex graphics flying across the screens, then gently reached out and touched his bare forearm. 

He startled, stiffening momentarily, then relaxed. Without looking away from the screens, he turned enough to lift his right hand and grasp her forearm so that they now were interlocked, each with a hand on the other’s bare forearm. He initiated the conversation without prompting.

 I am worried about Bina.

I am too. She ran away. How did you know?

Where is she?

I learned from them. She is not safe. You are not safe.

We are not safe. They need to leave us alone.

We need to make them leave us alone.

I wish I knew how, buddy. I really do.

Are you okay? The others are worried.

I am fine. We are fine. I am worried about Bina.

I must keep her safe.

His concern for Bina brought tears to her eyes, evidence of the deep reserves of love for his niece.

Let me help. I am looking also. What are you working on?

Adam hesitated, fingers still. Michelle detected a subtle change, a tensing and withdrawal.

Working. Can’t talk.

He broke contact abruptly and returned to his equipment.  Michelle remained next to him waiting for any further acknowledgement, then turned away, knowing well how her brother could shut down into stubborn isolation. Mei stood in the doorway, radiating worry.  They returned to the living room downstairs. The man playing the game remained unconcerned with their presence.

“Well?” Mei prompted. Michelle took a deep breath.

“He’s very worried about Bina. He knows she is in trouble. I guess me showing up here without her was pretty obvious evidence of that.”

“I’m just happy he let you mesh. He won’t let me near him.  What else?”

Michelle shook her head, frowning.

“He’s working hard on something, but as soon as I pressed, he broke off. He is definitely hiding something.”

Mei nodded. “Definitely. That’s a big relief. Not that he’s hiding something, but that I wasn’t misreading the situation. You’ve really helped by confirming something is up.”

“But hiding what?”

 “I don’t know. If the yunk has an idea, it hasn’t been shared with me.”

“Now what?”

“I need to get instructions. The parts of this node that Adam has excluded haven’t been helpful. I’m worried about them, too. He’s cut them off from the rest. It’s taking a toll on them.”

“But they’re still connecting. He knew about Bina.”

“They, the yunk, will be interested in that. Somehow Adam is invisible to them, yet this confirms he’s still connecting.”

“What can you tell me about this node of his? How many, and who?”

“Just two, a woman named Serena, and an older man with Trisomy 21 named Archie.”

“Do they have any special gifts or attributes?”

“Not that I know. Both mesh, and both were trained in a variety of communication modes. I don’t know where they met Archie. I know Serena was a member of the first node Adam was attached to, then they were separated, then reunited here. I believe they have a relationship separate from the node.”

“A relationship?”

Mei shrugged.

“Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

Michelle sensed Mei withheld something and filed it away to explore later. “Well, I can try to connect with them,” she offered.

They stood in the foyer just outside the living room. Archie continued with his game, the headset emitting the muffled sounds of the game action. At that moment, they heard the scrape and slide of a walker and Serena appeared from the kitchen.

“Did you find what you needed?” she asked, her voice high pitched and unsteady.

Michelle wondered if Serena had a hearing impairment.

“Thank you, Serena. We spoke with Adam,” Mei responded. Serena shuffled forward, maneuvering the walker with obvious difficulty. Serena stopped to touch behind her right ear, fumbling.

“I’m sorry, my implant is misbehaving. One sec.” She massaged the area, then dropped her hand with soft, high pitched whine of frustration. She offered her arms, palms upward.

“Can we?”

Without hesitation, Michelle linked arms.

I’m Michelle, Adam’s sister.

It’s nice to meet you.

Adam told me so much about you.

Do you know where Bina is?

I don’t. Adam is looking for her.

He’s very concerned.

Do you know what he’s working on?

Why won’t he connect with the groupmind?

He’s very angry.

With them, and with the people who hate us.

I worry about him.

Can you help us?

We’re trying to find Bina and keep her safe.

To keep everyone safe.

I can try, but he doesn’t tell me everything.

He’s very stubborn.

Believe me, I know.

Serena smiled at that and gave her a long squeeze then broke away.

“Thank you, Serena. We’ll be in touch,” Mei concluded, steering Michelle to the door. As they walked back to their cars, Mei asked, “What did Serena tell you?”

“Not much. She and Adam know Bina is missing, not sure how. She says Adam is very angry, which isn’t news to me. That Adam doesn’t tell her everything, but she’s willing to help.”

Michelle wondered about this new aspect of his personality, and his relationship with Serena and to the groupmind. The last conversations with him before they separated gave no hint of this kind of turmoil or conflict. The anger about the people who persecuted them she knew well. 

Mei frowned. As Michelle opened her car door, Mei put a hand on her arm. 

“I wasn’t completely honest with you before.”

“About what?”

“Archie and Serena. Their situation, their connection to Adam. There is a link between them, and Adam, that was, is, a source of…disturbance. Maybe even conflict.”

“Go on.”

“Adam is supposed to breed. Your family, you and Adam and Bina carry important genes. Serena and Archie are…stubs.”

Michelle scowled. “What?”

Mei struggled. “I don’t have a word. I have the image that is shared, a tangle with strands weaving together, creating a path, a highway, but there are pieces that wander off like a dangling thread. A stub.”

“A dead end? A cul de sac?” Michelle suggested.

“Yes, like that.”

“And that’s because of…their genes? For breeding?”

Mei hung her headed and nodded, avoiding Michelle’s angry glare. Part of Michelle felt bad unleashing her disgust on this young woman, but she went on.

“And Adam? How does this relate?”

“Adam wanted to have children with Serena and the yunk refused.”

Michelle burned with a cold fury. “And?”

“Serena carries harmful traits that are too closely related to her abilities, some kind of degenerative neurologic condition. Archie cannot because of his trisomy. That may be why they split off.”

Michelle took a deep breath to master her rage. The dictates of the groupmind and the assumption of complete obedience were sickening. She knew well the feeling of being used and bred like a farm animal, along with the stench of eugenic manipulation and dehumanization.

“May be? I’d say he had good reason.” Michelle spat the words.

“But they aren’t temporally related. The dispute happened when he separated from you two. They only split off from the groupmind a little over a year ago. Since then they’ve successfully evaded us until now.”

No wonder he hadn’t been in touch. It had hurt Bina, not being able to communicate or visit with him. Now she knew why, the same reasons she resented the HI mind. 

“So they want Adam to breed, just not with the person he loves?”

Mei nodded, still avoiding eye contact.

Michelle continued. “And what’s so special about our genes? Why can’t he make his own decisions?” Michelle suspected the answer, given her experience with Trey Isaac and Bina’s parentage, but she wanted to see what Mei knew, and more importantly, how she felt about it.

“You and Adam, and especially Bina, are able to balance between linking and immersing into the groupmind maintaining your individual identity, what the groupmind calls ego integration. Some individuals can merge successfully, but their egos gradually dissolve and they lose all ability to communicate outside the groupmind. They merge completely. They need to spend most of their time connected, physically interlinked, or using the implants. Otherwise, they atrophy and eventually die, like an appendage cut off from the body. The other extreme is most other typicals, who have a strong individual identity, but can’t merge. The Shank family are at the perfect balance point, the cusp between both domains. The yunk desperately needs that, for its own integration, but also to interface with the outside world, to give it a voice. That’s my job, and Bina’s. It can’t grow and adapt, or even survive, without it. That’s why your family is so special.”

“Can’t you see how disgusting that is? How dehumanizing? Treating people like cattle, breeding them, manipulating them? It’s why I don’t want Bina to be anywhere near that.”

Mei spread her hands out, placating. “I know, I know. Sometimes it bothers me, too. But there is another side. The yunk is working to improve itself, to be better, more stable.”

“More stable? What do you mean?” Michelle saw Mei realize she let something slip. “Mei?” Michelle prompted.

“The breeding efforts to improve abilities, to enhance the individual parts and how they interact, have come at a cost. Accelerating the development of the beneficial attributes also accelerates random changes that are deleterious. Apparently, there is an equilibrium that the constituent parts had achieved through natural selection that became unstable as the yunk attempts to influence, to accelerate its own evolution, its progression.”

“How did this become a problem?”

“Have you ever done something and you have no idea why you did it? The yunk is experiencing that. It doesn’t completely understand itself. People like me, like you and Bina, provide a necessary stabilizing influence, as well as being the means of communicating with the outside world. It’s as if the yunk needs that external connection, the push and pull of dealing with other intelligent creatures, to keep itself integrated and sane. A scientist at one of the labs we work with put it this way: if the self is a story we tell ourselves, other minds are the audience, which we rely on for feedback, stimulation, ideas. The external world provides the material for the creativity that drives the narrative of self. There is no I without a you.”

Michelle felt myriad connections suddenly falling into place: why the HI was so insistent on them reconnecting; the intense interest in Bina’s progress and welfare; the outreach of this young woman, an emissary of the groupmind; even Adam’s situation. But now she better understood not just her role, but her value, and the power that gave her and Bina.

Around them, the autumn wind stirred, and Mei pulled her jacket close. In the side yard, dead brown leaves swirled and skittered, creating a small drift in a bright red plastic wading pool. Michelle noticed Mei shivering and immediately thought of Bina somewhere out there just as cold.

“What next? How do we find Bina?”

Mei gestured to the vehicles. “Let’s get rid of one of these and ride together. We need to go south. There are others we can enlist to help, but we’ll need faster transportation.”

***

Inside the house, Adam worked furiously. His sister’s arrival with the HI emissary meant his location was known, and the collective would be watching him now. His plans were too close to fruition to tolerate disruption. It was too delicate, too precarious, to allow any interference. The pieces were not in place yet, the pattern incomplete. The hunters must be destroyed to keep Bina safe.

He rechecked his preparations for the next phase, ensuring his access remained unconstrained. He looked up at the doorway, towards the sound of the blaring television. Archie would have to be sent out again, using his eidetic memory to find the last details of the hunter’s plan. It would be risky, but Archie was too valuable not to use in this way.

He turned back to his inputs and set the pieces in motion.

NEXT